Libido
by The Tenth
Summary: Dee becomes frustrated as his love for Ryo blooms but his sex life dwindles. Are the two doomed to suffer from imbalanced libidos? Chapter 3: An intimate look in JJ's perspective on his love for Dee and the anguish of yearning beneath the surface.
1. Chapter 1

Tryst

Dee took one last drag of his cigarette out on the tiny balcony outside Ryo's apartment. Technically, the apartment belonged to both of them since they'd moved in together six months ago, but it still felt strange to call their joint home anything but Ryo's place. Maybe it was because Ryo still made all the apartment rules. This included the law that if Dee was going to smoke, he'd do it outside on the balcony. Not that Dee minded; he was trying to cut back anyway.

With his latest cigarette smoldering hot, smoked nearly down to the filter, it was time to come back inside. He stubbed out the butt in a misshapen ceramic ashtray on the table beside him. It was glazed and painted with a daisy in the middle, something Carol had made for him at summer camp and given to him for Father's Day. He thought of her every time he looked at it and that somehow made it easier to resist the temptation to smoke another one.

He stepped back inside and found Ryo at the kitchen sink, cleaning up the dinner dishes. The cuffs of his collared shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up past his elbows, exposing faint traces of ginger hair on his forearms. Unaware that he was being watched, Ryo sighed and brushed his forehead with the back of his wrist. He squeezed more dish soap onto a sponge and began washing a plate. The soft clink of ceramic on the bottom of the sink, the swish and sway of soapy water—something about the sounds felt "warm" and blissfully domestic. Dee thought his partner had never looked more beautiful.

He sidled up behind him and laid a kiss on the side of Ryo's neck. "Hey," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Why don't you come back to the bedroom with me? Those dishes can wait." He hooked a finger in the side of Ryo's collar, pulling it away from his skin, and planted a light biting kiss there.

Ryo gave a weak smile and shrugged away. "Not right now, okay? I'd like to get a few things done tonight."

"Later then, right?" Dee stepped close from behind and slid an arm around Ryo's chest. He slipped his fingers between the buttons on his shirt and teased his nipple.

Ryo huffed a short exasperated sigh. "Not tonight." He turned to face Dee with a serious expression. "I want to get to bed at a decent hour for once. We need to be at the station early tomorrow morning for that department meeting."

"You know nothing ever gets done at those meetings." Dee waved a dismissive hand. "Everyone just sits around and complains. The chief tells us about all the new regulations that are about to make our jobs even harder than before, and we only adjourn when Ted's eaten the last of the donuts. You could sleep through it all and not miss a thing." Dee reached a hand for Ryo's waist, but he stepped away.

"I'm just under a lot of stress, all right? And I just don't have time tonight."

"That's why we won't wait for time; we'll _make_ time." Dee dropped his voice to a sexy whisper again. "Remember when we used to come back here for a quickie on our lunch break?"

Ryo's voice exploded with unexpected force. "Not tonight, okay, Dee? I'm not in the mood!"

The dauntless charm of Dee's smile faded in an instant. Sadly, it was the answer he had come to expect. For almost three weeks now, Ryo had turned down his every advance and Dee was finally growing sick of it. He'd tried every approach from gentle romance to fiery assertiveness, but lately Ryo's answer had always been the same. His answer "Not tonight" might as well have been "Not ever."

Lying together in bed every night, seeing Ryo naked in the shower or half-clothed around the apartment—it filled Dee with passion that exceeded reason. When they first moved in together, Dee drooled to himself with wolfish anticipation at the thought of how much sex they would have. He expected night after night of carnal desire like in the early days of their relationship. Instead, the steady flow of Ryo's desire had withered to a dry river bed. Their relationship went from lovers to little more than roommates.

It wasn't just a matter of unsatisfied lust to Dee. It was the—

(REJECTION)

--sum of many different factors that frustrated him to no end. Ryo was beautiful and every little thing he did turned Dee on—even washing dishes—so why wasn't the feeling mutual? Didn't Ryo find him attractive any more? Did he think he was lousy in bed? Why the change of heart? It made Dee sick with anxiety to know that he might be part of the problem, but he'd never know for sure.

Dee didn't doubt Ryo's fidelity for an instant, but worried that he might have a naturally frigid sex drive. Perhaps Ryo had buried his sexuality too long or taken his obsessive self-control to a level that forbade all desire. Whatever it was, Dee knew he still loved him more than anything, but he wanted a lover, not just a friend. If Ryo had a low purr of a libido compared to Dee's unquenchable roar, he was willing to work through that, to compromise somehow. But being told—

(REJECTION)

--"no" night after night was wearing him down. This was not compromise; it was a complete shut-out. It left him unwanted, unloved.

Dee forced a weak smile. "All right. Can I at least help you dry the dishes?" He leaned forward to give Ryo a chaste kiss on the lips but Ryo turned his face away.

"Darn it, Dee! Could you give it a rest for just a minute?"

What? He wasn't supposed to even _kiss_ him any more? Dee felt a surge of anger pull through him. It started in his gut and rolled through his throat, loosening his tongue to the brink of saying something they would both regret.

When he was younger, Dee would have gone ahead and said it anyway. Shooting his mouth off was the habit that got him in trouble more than any other, an ugly trait that he saw all too often in Bikky. Now Dee had the composure to hold his tongue, but anger and frustration vibrated through him right down to his guts.

Ryo stared back at him, looking equally hot-tempered and annoyed. He was probably thinking that Dee was horny and selfish, not pausing to think that _he_ was the selfish one for treating Dee as chaste as a brother for nearly a month.

Ryo's pale cheeks were flushed pink with agitation and Dee found to his chagrin that even this aroused him. Ryo's half-anxious, half-defiant look was heavy with expectation. The flush in his cheeks looked remarkably like the blush of arousal that crossed his face in the throes of their lovemaking. Dee felt the hanging ache of unfulfilled desire clench in his balls and his cock jerk in eager stiffness.

His animal instinct urged him to just push Ryo down and have his way with him, but his love and respect for his partner wouldn't allow him to make such a risky move. When he'd pushed Ryo down to kiss him in those early days of them first meeting, he'd done it only to help Ryo face the long-buried secret of his homosexuality. He had no such noble excuse this time.

Fuck it! Fine! He'd just stalk off and masturbate in the bedroom or beat off in the shower like he usually did when Ryo was being a cold fish. But tonight the thought of this simple solution filled him with shame and irritation. He was sick of being reduced to hiding like a twelve-year-old boy, tugging on his dick behind a locked bathroom door and guilty as a criminal. He was an adult, damn it! This was getting ridiculous!

Ryo wouldn't let him enjoy a good fuck and Dee couldn't hang around any longer being shot down and denied, stroking himself in dismal solitude. He needed to get some air and clear his head.

Dee grabbed his brown leather coat from its hook by the door and thrust his arms into the sleeves. "I'm going out." He snatched his keys from the table and thrust them into his jeans pocket. "For a beer."

"Oh." The anger on Ryo's face vanished like vapor. "Okay." He looked wounded and concerned.

Dee couldn't help but feel a faint sense of relief, even dark satisfaction at the worried look on his partner's face. At least he cared enough that Dee could still get a rise out of him.

"Are you going to be at Trudy's?"

Dee flinched inwardly. Was he really that predictable? "Trudy's" was the bar where he, Ted, and Drake would sometimes go for drinks after work. It was a quaint little hole in the wall with friendly servers and damn good hot wings but it was only half a block away. Storming off only as far as Trudy's to cool off was akin to a sulky teenager declaring that he was running away from home, but camping in the backyard.

It was the place Dee had been planning on, but now he scratched it from his list of options. He didn't want to be predictable. He didn't want Ryo to find him easily. He felt a twinge of guilt, that this was all just a juvenile ploy to make Ryo jealous. Instead he told himself that he didn't want Ryo to be in control of his whereabouts. He already had total control of his sex life as it was.

"No. Not Trudy's. I don't know where I'm going yet." He buttoned the front of his jacket. It would probably be snowing outside.

"Will you be back, uhm, before too late?" Ryo twisted the dish towel he held in his hands as if trying to wring out the dry cloth.

"Probably. I won't miss that all-important department meeting if that's what you're worried about." He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "Later."

Feeling smug, vindicated, and just a little bit guilty, Dee stepped out into the dark city streets.


	2. Chapter 2

Libido 2

Dee's legs carried him fifteen blocks away to the last place Ryo would find him. By then, the icy December wind had cooled his lust like a cold shower. As he stepped inside the bar, his first thought was, _"What am I doing here?"_

Dance music throbbed through the club speakers, audible on the street and nearly deafening on the inside. The hallway that led to the main dance floor was lit only by red Christmas lights along the ceiling, so dark Dee could barely see his boots. From a side room, he caught a glimpse of a heartbroken transvestite wailing out a karaoke version of Cher's "Believe." No wet bar in there. Dee kept walking.

Yes, the gay bar was the last place Ryo would find him, but even Dee was surprised to find himself there. He'd never been inside, but had scoffed aloud about the place before. "Gay beer doesn't taste any different from straight beer," he'd said and Dee wasn't one to go to a club for its ambience. Yet here he was.

Despite the winter chill outside past the bouncers, the temperature in the club was oppressive. Heat radiated from dancing bodies and blazing spotlights. Humidity from panting mouths and evaporating sweat made his clothes feel damp and clammy. When Dee stepped into the main dance room—the one with a fully-stocked bar at last!—he was immediately hit by the blast of a high powered fan and sighed with relief. The room was lit by muted blue lights along the edges of the ceiling, which gave the room a cooler feel than the dark red-lit hallway.

Dee spotted a stool at the bar with a personal space bubble of an empty seat on either side of it and sat down. Without looking around at the other patrons, he raised a finger to get the bartender's attention. She had short-cropped hair that was gelled into spikes and wore a black shirt that said "STOP THE WAR" on the front in white block letters and "The Only Bush I Trust Is My Own" on the back. She finished wiping down the bar counter and slapped the damp dishtowel over her shoulder. 

"What's it gonna be?" she asked. She rolled a toothpick from one side of her unsmiling mouth to the other, and flicked her blue-grey eyes up and down him, sizing up the newcomer with quick scrutiny.

Dee ordered a couple American beers. Regardless of his beloved Ryo's nationality, Dee refused to jump on the new trend of ordering Japanese beers. Those pansy watered-down drinks didn't count as real beer any more than fast food patties could were high-quality meat.

The bartender thumped a pair of brown bottles on the counter in front of him and Dee left a generous tip. The cold beer felt good in his hand and he quaffed down half a bottle in one breath. 

A high-energy techno song came on the speakers and a few of the people sipping drinks at the counter got up to go dance. _"What am I doing here?"_ Dee asked himself again. He glanced around the room at the culture that felt completely alien to him. Underage-looking twinkie boys danced to the beat with wild abandon while butch wallflowers stood along the edges of the room with their arms crossed. To make Dee feel even more out of place, it seemed like everyone knew everyone else, as though it wasn't just a gay bar but some close-knit fraternity.

Feeling utterly out of his element, Dee resolved to leave after he finished his second beer. He'd have to find some other place to hide out by himself for a little while. 

As he started on his second bottle of suds, he glanced to the far corner of the dance floor where he spotted a man with his back turned who reminded him of JJ. Wearing an expensive cut of slacks and collared shirt, the man could have been the sharpshooter's brother. He appeared to be flirting with one of the other men on the dance floor, some dark European-looking hunk wearing cut-off sleeves to show off his tanned biceps. The JJ look-alike gestured animatedly while he talked, then threw his head back in laugher and lay a hand on the Euro-hunk's chest as if to say, "Oh, stop!" Subtle.

Dee had just begun to look away when the JJ look-alike turned his head toward the bar. Dee choked on his beer, accidentally snorting bitter carbonation up into his sinuses. Dammit! It _was_ JJ! He turned his head away as fast as he could, but it was too late. As if in slow motion, he saw JJ's eyes turn towards him and their eyes met for a brief second like two strangers brushing hands in a crowd.

_Get out! He had to get out quick! Screw the beer! _

Dee shoved the bottle away from him on the counter and stood up from his bar stool as fast as he could. Just then he heard a piercing squeal of delight from across the dance floor: 

"DEEEEEE!"

Ugh. He should have known it would be impossible to avoid a confrontation.

Abandoning his European beau as if he'd suddenly ceased to exist, JJ rocketed across the room with inhuman speed. No sooner had Dee risen to his feet when he felt JJ's hand wrapped around his arm, squeezing it in an adoring death-grip.

"Oh my God! _Deeeee!_ I didn't know you came here! You told me you hated gay bars, you liar!" He gave Dee a teasing punch on the chest and let his hand linger there for a few seconds longer than he needed to.

"Uhh. Hey, JJ. Actually, I was just leaving..."

"The heck you are!" JJ pushed Dee back until he was seated on the bar stool again. "This is perfect! I never get to see you outside work!"

The tall man from the other side of the room slid up behind JJ like a dark-haired phantom and slid his arms around JJ's shoulders as familiar as if he were a boyfriend. "Are you going to introduce us?" His voice was thick with an Italian accent.

"Oh! Of course." JJ pointed to the man draped across his shoulders. "Dee, this is Giovanni. Giovanni, this is Dee, one of the detectives down at the station."

The smile on Giovanni's face dropped immediately upon hearing the name. His green eyes darkened like storm clouds and his thin lips grew tight. "Oh. So this is the Dee I've heard so much about."

Augh! Did JJ tell everyone in the planet about his obsession? Dee wanted to slap himself on the forehead but extended his hand instead. "Yeah, that's me. Good to meet you. So you and JJ are...?"

"Boyfriends. Yes." He glared at Dee with hard eyes, studying the detective's features with grim scrutiny as if trying to memorize every detail.

Dee stared back defiantly. There was something strange about this new guy but Dee couldn't quite put his finger on it. He seemed handsome enough. Tan skin, dark hair, green eyes. Maybe it was the obscene quantity of gel in his hair or the bushy eyebrows that bordered on a unibrow that made him look not quite right...

Giovanni wasn't the type he'd expected JJ to fall for, but he wasn't too bad. He seemed friendly enough, until he'd found out he was meeting the notorious Dee at least. What was JJ thinking by telling his new boyfriend about his Dee obsession anyway? He decided to dismiss the issue; it was none of his business and this was all good news anyway. If JJ finally moved on and got himself a boyfriend, that meant a blissful end to all the stalking and office flirtation. 

"Well, ahh, we're dating, but I wouldn't call us boyfriends just yet," JJ said. "Giovanni's my Italian instructor." He grimaced an awkward apologetic smile at the man draped across his shoulders.

Giovanni's face turned livid red. "Sure! You tell everyone else we are boyfriends, but to this person I am just your instructor!" He unwrapped his arms from JJ's shoulders as if burned by his touch and spat a string of Italian words that were no doubt a colorful profanity. "Screw you, JJ!" he concluded. He turned on his heels and walked for the door.

JJ stared at the floor with downcast eyes. He looked ashamed, but made no motion to follow.

"You'd better go after him," Dee said, nodding towards Giovanni's departing back. "He looks pretty pissed. Might not forgive you if you don't set things straight."

JJ looked torn. He looked at Dee, then Giovanni as he disappeared through the doorway, then back to Dee. "No," he said in a small voice. "I'll try to talk to him later, but for now I'll just stay."

"What the hell? He seems like a nice guy! Don't let him end it like that." Dee contemplated chasing down Giovanni himself. He wasn't much of a matchmaker, but he'd gladly help fix the relationship if it meant keeping JJ out of his hair.

"It's my decision, isn't it?" JJ said. "I know you'd like to get rid of me, Dee, but I'm not some slut who's going to fall all over the first guy you put in front of me."

"Hey, I thought you two were already dating." He raised an eyebrow.

JJ sighed. "Yeah; we're dating, but I can already tell it isn't working."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Just incompatible personalities, I guess." He gave a one-shoulder shrug. "He's into mountain climbing and parasailing and all that stuff, but I'd rather spend the weekend at The Met or Sak's, you know? We'd drive each other nuts eventually."

Dee nodded absently and quaffed the rest of his beer in one breath. He was torn between trying to leave again and ordering another one. He knew JJ would dig in his talons if he got up to leave, but he also knew that all the beer in the world wouldn't be enough to drench the pain of this awkward encounter.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's come along for the ride on this story, especially to the people who took the time to write such thoughtful comments—you're great! Chapter 4 will return us to Dee and Ryo, but before then, I hope this chapter gives some insight into JJ's perspective, his history, and the emotional turmoil beneath the surface. Enjoy._

Libido 3

JJ drank him in with his eyes. Still beautiful. Dee was always good for that. His shirt hugged his chest, revealing hard muscles beneath the thin layer of charcoal gray cotton. JJ knew from their days together on the force that Dee believed it important for cops to be in peak physical condition. He'd said that if even one criminal evaded arrest because he was in poor shape, that was one too many. A fit body was as important a tool to an officer as a gun or a radio. Earlier, JJ had wondered if settling down to domestic life with Ryo would change any of that, if his body would go soft from too much home cooking, from romantic evenings at home instead of nights at the gym. But Dee looked as good as ever—better even. Ryo had full access to those strong arms, the hard flat stomach, the muscular buttocks that filled out his jeans so nicely it was criminal…

_Ryo, I hope you appreciate what you've got, you lucky bastard. You'd better be treating him right…_

Dee's interest was flagging fast. His green eyes flitted again toward the door.

"So, can I buy you a drink?" JJ offered, his voice bright. If Dee's talks at the water cooler were any indication, he wasn't a man to turn down a free drink. When he made bets with Ted and Drake at work, it was almost always for the bar tab, not cash.

Dee shrugged one shoulder. "Sure," he said with a smirk. "I'll have what you're having."

JJ leaned up against the counter and the short-haired bartender appeared right away. She flashed a playful smile at his familiar face.

"Hey, JJ. What can I get you?"

"Two Tokyo teas, please."

"You got it." She turned away and began deftly upending liquor bottles into two glasses.

Dee gave a derisive snort and shook his head.

JJ put a hand on his hip in mock sternness, but his smile stayed. "What? You got a problem with my order?"

"I should have known you'd order a girly drink."

"A Tokyo tea isn't girly! It's as strong as a Long Island!" JJ held his smile, but inside he felt a hurtful stab. It was pathetic, but as long was it was from Dee, any criticism stung.

"Anything made with Midori and served with a maraschino cherry is girly by default."

Ah, the Zen of Dee. Blunt, a little sexist, and unashamedly opinionated. He could have been quite a jerk if he wasn't so damn _nice._ Those green eyes and dark lashes didn't hurt either…

"Well, maybe the ones you've tried before were weak, but you haven't tried 'em here. I'm good friends with the staff at this place and they mix 'em nice and strong for me. Two or three of these will have you passed out on the floor guaranteed."

It was a cheap shot, but JJ couldn't help adding his last comment as a challenge of sorts. Dee was smart, but a prideful brute. JJ bet that Dee's competitive nature would get the best of him and he'd rise to the challenge on principle.

"We'll see about that! Order me another round when she comes back."

Same old Dee. Sexy as hell and probably the last queer "nice guy" in New York, but he was easily tricked by his own hubris at times. To JJ who had studied Dee for years, it was a little eerie just how easy he was to manipulate.

He sullenly thought to himself how Ryo probably didn't know Dee a quarter as well as he did. When would Dee ever wake up and look past that vanilla redhead and see what a treasure he could have in JJ instead?

"Here you are, boys." The bartender thunked two glasses of green syrupy liquid onto the counter in front of them. Each glass was adorned with a maraschino cherry and a twist of lime.

In hindsight, he had to admit it was something of a girly drink. "Thanks, Helen. Make that one more, would you?" He slid a couple bills onto the counter to cover the drinks and an enormous tip. When one frequented the same bar as often as he did, it paid to be generous and friendly with the employees.

"You got it." She began mixing two more, measuring the liquor by sight.

Dee took a long swig of his drink, draining a quarter of the glass. "Jeez, that's sweet!"

JJ sipped his straw. "Do you like it?"

"Tastes like a soda with too much syrup. About as strong as one, too." As if to prove it, he took another drink.

JJ gave him an easy-going smile. Dee talked big, but the sheer amount of alcohol in his glass would get the best of him. Before long he'd be staggering drunk and then…

And then what? JJ felt a twinge of guilt as he always did when he thought about stealing Dee out from under Ryo's nose. Sure, the thought of Dee drunk was an appealing one. JJ held no malicious intentions; he just wanted Dee to loosen up around him, maybe even loosen his tongue 

enough so they could be honest. Dee would probably be less standoffish, more open. Was that so wrong?

Inwardly, he knew it was a dirty trick. He had no business trying to get Dee sloppy and uninhibited. The unthinkable had already happened and Dee's misguided infatuation with Ryo had become serious. Dee wasn't single any more. They'd even moved in together. This was someone else's boyfriend he was messing with.

JJ quickly smothered his guilt with a thick blanket of indignation. So what if he wasn't playing fair? Says who? The only thing that was _really_ unfair about the whole mess was that Ryo had somehow landed such a catch in the first place by sheer luck. It wasn't right that he should have him! Ryo was always so uptight and… tepid.

No, it wasn't unfair! In fact, the only true crime would be to let Dee languish away with that bore when he could be infinitely better matched with a guy like JJ. Dee deserved someone as outgoing and passionate, who would appreciate him like he deserved.

If there was any sabotage of Ryo's relationship, it was purely for their own good, JJ told himself. Dee deserved better.

Meanwhile, Dee looked lost in his own thoughts. He looked bored, but something else flickered behind his uneasy eyes.

"So, how have things been at the station?" JJ asked. He listened sympathetically while Dee bitched about everything from mob bosses at large to the obsolete computers at the station.

After a little while, Dee looked uncomfortable and turned the conversation back to JJ. "What about you and that Giovanni guy?" he asked. "Since when are you learning Italian anyway?"

Color rose to JJ's cheeks but he said nothing.

Dee smirked and set down his glass. "Ah. Since you met that guy and he was hot-looking?"

"Dad's been trying to get me to try living abroad for a while. It made him happy that I was learning Italian." He picked at his neatly manicured fingernails, his eyes downcast.

Dee arched an eyebrow. He knew JJ was an only child and his father was obsessed with his future so it wasn't like his dad was trying to get rid of him. "Why does he want you to live abroad?"

JJ shook his head. "Ah, it's nothing. Just the same old crap as always."

"He still thinks this is 'just a phase of yours' after all this time? Thinks the men in New York are turning you homo and a change of scenery would make you look at the girls a little closer?"

It was hard for JJ to hide the awe in his voice. "I can't believe you still remember about my dad..."

Dee was quick to cover with a gruff, "Of course I remember. You never stopped bitching about him back when we were rookies."

"But... You were listening. You remember after all these years."

Awkward silence followed. JJ wasn't sure whether he was being pitiful or if he was right to feel flattered that Dee would remember the details of his unhappy home life. Not many people pitied JJ, spoiled rich boy that he was, but after months of patrolling together, Dee had learned there was much more to him than the superficial.

Dee was the first one who listened with true sympathy when JJ told him how he was the only son of close-minded parents, how his parents had divorced shortly after JJ came out of the closet, piling him with guilt over their broken marriage. Even when they barely knew each other, Dee listened to his frustration of wanting to be a fashion designer but with a father who insisted on a more traditionally manly career like criminal justice or engineering.

By the time he got to the bottom of his second glass, Dee had grown more quiet and contemplative. He began asking JJ about how things were going with his father, if his cousin was 

enjoying her new marriage and move to New Hampshire. Over time, his body language eased. His shoulders relaxed and his expression softened from its guarded tension. He stopped subtly leaning away.

At last they had shed their roles of pursuer and pursued. They had become instead nothing more than two human beings who understood one another. JJ reveled in Dee's candidness. Even when drunk, his words ran far deeper than the usual shallow conversation. There was a thinking brain and a beating heart behind the handsome exterior, a thoughtful concern for others that was all but extinct in the general population. As they sat and conversed on everything that came to mind, JJ could tell Dee was really listening. He was communicating, not just waiting for his turn to talk like other friends did.

In that moment of connection, epiphany struck JJ like a blinding harsh light. At last he understood why Dee had been so callous and distant to him all this time—because when the defenses came down, the real Dee was more dazzling than the imagined fantasy of him. JJ felt his heart float, then plummet toward his stomach like he was in a rapidly descending elevator. In that moment, all pretenses of lust and fanaticism fell away. JJ thought he'd felt it for years, but it was only at ten forty-seven in a humble gay bar filled with hot bodies and throbbing techno music that he knew it to be true: He was profoundly, irreversibly in love. With alarm and a hint of despair, JJ knew there would be no turning back. He could never give up on Dee, not as long as they both lived. He could be content with nothing less.

"Something wrong?"

JJ startled. "Wh-What?"

"You're staring. Got a weird look on your face." Dee's tone was slow and relaxed. He had an air of serenity about him, though it was probably just alcohol-induced torpor.

"Sorry. Just spacing out," JJ said. "So, how's domestic life treating you?"

Dee rocked his empty glass back and forth on the counter. "Pretty good."

A dark blend of jealousy and hope trembled in JJ's stomach. "Just 'pretty good'?" Dee should have raved about his new life with Ryo, dashing JJ's fantasies on the rocks. Instead, the sharpshooter burned with new passion and hope. "What's wrong?"

Dee exhaled a hefty sigh. "Oh, nothing big." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I was hoping for a little more 'action', you know? But I guess that's to be expected when you settle down."

JJ gaped at him incredulously. He couldn't help it.

Dee waved his hand dismissively as if to shoo the subject away like a pesky insect. "Ah, shit. I shouldn't have said that. Forget I said anything, okay?" Dee turned away from him and stared straight ahead, lost in his thoughts. A resigned melancholy settled on his face.

It was inexcusable. It was bad enough that Dee couldn't see what a perfect match JJ would be, but he'd always assumed that Dee was enjoying what he had to the fullest.

It was already cruelly unfair that MacLean got all of Dee's time, attention, and kisses to himself, but to hear that he was keeping Dee on ice in bed—it was too much to bear! Unbidden, JJ's mind flooded with fantasies. He envisioned Ryo as cruelly chaste at home, a depressed and under-appreciated Dee just waiting for that magic moment to be shown a love infinitely better, to the ideal lover right under his nose all along. He envisioned showing Dee the alternative, the depths of his passion, their bodies entwined in vivid detail as they'd been so many times before in JJ's fantasies.

Their meeting tonight was too much to be coincidence! Of course it had been lust and loneliness that had led Dee to this bar. Then the drinks, the understanding, the growing intimacy the longer they talked… This wasn't chance; this was fate. No, it was divine appointment that God had 

orchestrated this very moment. Through frustration and endless waiting, JJ's persistence had paid off at last.

As Dee stared listlessly at the beer taps lining the counter, JJ watched his face in silent reverence. Dee looked the saddest he had ever seen him, achingly lonely. In need of rescue.

The voices and techno music faded away, leaving only the bass line until that too had fused with the pounding of his heart. The other people, the flashing lights, everything fell away into nothingness. All JJ could see was Dee's vivid green eyes like smooth glass. They stared forward in resigned loneliness, but JJ knew he could return the spark of joy to those eyes. He would be the one to return the heat to Dee's bed sheets.

Mesmerized, JJ leaned forward, drawn into that lonely gaze. Without thinking, he drew close enough to feel the warmth of body heat.

Then JJ caught the side of Dee's mouth in a tender kiss. He had just enough time to register the warmth and softness of his lips, the soft rasp of his facial stubble, then--!

Dee jerked away violently. "What the hell, JJ?" He put his hand against JJ's shoulder and pushed him away to arm's length.

JJ watched him wipe his lips with the back of his hand as if the kiss had left a foul taste. Pain lanced his chest, wounding him more deeply than any bullet. "I just thought…"

"You're not thinking at all," Dee sneered. "That's the problem." He grabbed his jacket from the bar and thrust his arms forcefully into the sleeves.

"Dee…" How could it happen like this? He had been so sure that the mood was right…

When Giovanni had left, JJ let him go, but as he saw Dee stalk towards the door, JJ was quick to follow on his heels like a shadow.

Dee halted and turned in place, brandishing his finger at JJ in warning. "Quit following me," he said. "Here and at the station."

JJ felt pressure crushing his chest. He felt tears sting his eyes, and set his jaw, trying to wish them away. He couldn't stand to look as weak as he felt. "Dee, please… I just—"

"I love Ryo," Dee said, spreading his hand on his chest over his heart. "Do you understand that? I _love _him." He clenched the hand into a fist and dropped it back to his side. "Now quit belittling my relationship by acting like I'd change my mind over a few drinks. I'm not yours and I never will be. Get over it."

With those acid words, Dee walked away.

JJ stood numbly in place, unable to follow and helpless against the flood of pain. He shielded his eyes with his hand and ran to the men's room. Only when he was locked inside a bathroom stall, did his despair erupt into bitter tears.

"Be a man," he hissed to himself after a moment. He balled his fists and pressed them against his temples, shaking his head violently. "Be a man, you sissy! Stop crying!" He echoed the words his father had told him a hundred times, but even the branded memory of his father's acrid voice was powerless against the flood of his grief.

As he sobbed alone in the bathroom stall, his skin prickled into goose bumps with shame. To anyone overhearing, he probably sounded pitiful. Just another heartbroken queen who'd had a bad night. They wouldn't understand.

No one understood him but Dee.

And Dee was gone.


End file.
